Shattered
by Sayloni
Summary: Jason never imagined saving Olympus could end in such a tragedy. Now he's riddled with unattainable oaths, and things can just never return to how they were in the past anymore. Then there's also Nico Di Angelo, fascinating despite the melancholy. More agonizing is trying to fend of that inexplicable urge to chain the son of Hades to this morbid, crumbling World. Love is too cruel.


Author's Note:

Alright, everyone.

Here it is; the story that Sayloni said she was working on.

It's been a chore to shut off her fangirl mode recently. Really, once she got into the 'Jasico' pairing, she just had to do something about it and clear out her mind or her other stories would never be updated. It's a bit pathetic when put like that, true, but what can she do?

Ah, the woes of being an imaginative writer!

But Jason and Nico have such an appeal of their own. Sayloni honestly hadn't bothered to dwell into it much before (actually, she hadn't dwelled into any kind of slash involving the PJO fandom until Croatia), but now she doesn't know how she is going to face the 'Blood of Olympus'. It's definitely going to be a problem.

So anyway. Leaving that aside, Sayloni had a few ideas swimming in her overly enthusiastic mind and the following story is a result of one of them.

Hopefully, it's not a waste of time.

The time plane is the one where Gaea has been defeated, not without loss on both sides though, and Nico has stuck to his words to disappear forever. Also, this is probably going to be a two-shot so it's okay for the readers to follow it.

Enjoy.

Warning :

This fic contains boy x boy, not overly explicit, but Sayloni won't advice people with no taste in this genre, or those who have probably never heard about it to go on reading. A few character deaths, but nothing overly depressing. And, oh! Characters might appear a tad bit OOC, but she'll definitely try to work on them.

Disclaimer :

Sayloni is no Rick Riordan, that is to politely say that she doesn't own the 'Percy Jackson and the Olympians' or the 'Heroes of Olympus' series. Also, these characters are His Highness's property exclusively. Also, the cover art is owned by the wonderful Viria.

And hence, you are free to read on!

* * *

**_"The tragedy isn't that love doesn't last; Tragedy is the love that lasts."_**

* * *

**To Mend a Broken Heart**

When Chiron sent for him, Jason hadn't known what to expect. It was rare that he was invited to the Big House. But a look at the Centaur's grim face and something in his abdomen had churned revoltingly, and within seconds he was hurrying towards the lake.

"He's here," Chiron had simply said.

It had been enough to send him flying outside.

Jason hadn't seen him at the Pyre. To be truthful, he hadn't seen him for months now. He hadn't heard about him for weeks. Apparently, the boy wasn't one to go all buddy-buddy with people who he'd fought beside till either exhaustion or death. He wasn't a crowd person. He was never a crowd person.

But for some reason, Nico Di Angelo had been involved enough to ask for him.

Truthfully, it baffled him. Jason didn't even know why; it just did. It had always seemed to him that the more he wanted to make friends with the boy, the more distance the other put between them. The more Nico pushed him away.

No, not friends, Jason corrected himself. It ran deeper than that. He honestly had no idea regarding the matter.

Nico probably didn't, either.

It was rare that anyone would catch the son of Hades hanging around; he had always been so quiet and underhanded while slipping away from either of the Camps. Jason remembered Percy saying that he'd be gone for days together, and nobody, not even Hades, would know about his whereabouts. That he'd had the opportunity to experience firsthand. There was no way of predicting when the boy would return, if at all.

And so, after the War against Gaea, Jason had stalked him every passing moment in fear of the son of Hades disappearing forever.

Fear; an emotion he should have been immune to by now, but it still plagued him. A lot could go wrong in during the boy's solitary travels. Love makes people do stupid things, these weren't just words anymore. Jason had seen it, felt it, and then reluctantly tried to forget it. If Annabeth could end up like that, then someone with no real place or family to go to couldn't be far behind. Yes, it plagued him. The thought of anymore _loss_ plagued him. He didn't want Nico to be alone. He didn't want Nico to remain hidden in some far corner of the planet due to fear of rejection or shame, he didn't want Nico to not have anything to do with the World.

Or so Jason induced himself to believe.

He had yet to thrive though. Apparently, watching him like a hawk all day hadn't been enough, neither had the soothing words he strived to offer. No amount of friendliness he tried to provide had deterred the boy. Jason supposed he couldn't just bind and cuff him and lock him in some place with no trace of shadows either.

He'd had tried, still; he had to. Yes, it hadn't been enough.

Nico Di Angelo was a complexity. He simply felt that he didn't belong, and no amount of convincing could make him consider otherwise. At least, that's what Jason could infer from all that he had been trusted with. The more he tried to untangle, the more the string knotted onto itself. Nico was afraid. Nico was inaccessible. The people he gave chances to prove the notion wrong never did manage to succeed either.

Not his Father, nor his Sister, and neither Percy. _Never_ him.

Likewise, he hadn't stuck about after the War either, had barely stayed to welcome the Argo II back or mourn the lives that had been lost during their so called conquest. He'd kissed an anguishing Hazel on the forehead, sent a pitying look towards Annabeth and himself and then despite his surveillance and desperate efforts to fulfil a dying promise, disappeared in the dead of the night. Jason figured it was natural; Nico didn't have anything anymore in Camp Half Blood to visit about anyway. And perhaps the son of Poseidon counted as a different thing, but Jason would be too fickle a reason for him to stay.

He would always be too fickle a reason.

Sometimes, he wondered what had been so special about the guy anyway. He had been a Hero, and he had been friendly, comical, loyal, but that wasn't so unique. He had been impulsive. He had been oblivious. And he had been a certified idiot. That couldn't be so appealing either, could it? Jason didn't understand.

Nico Di Angelo was a mystery he had yet to unravel.

If only he was capable enough.

That evening, Jason had had that ominous feeling twisting his guts, worrying him throughout the cremation ceremony. Like a Minotaur tearing open his insides, it made him dizzy. It happened sometimes, like the instances when Piper kissed him or held his hand, like when Annabeth had cried over her bleeding love, or the way he'd feel like emptying his stomach when he saw Hazel's red, puffy eyes, but it was never to this extent. Nico must have been there, watching from the shadows as always while the rest of the Campers stood around the burning pile, lamenting, mourning. That was the only thing that made sense now.

Jason, despite himself, had watched the flames licking at an awfully dark sky until it was just a mound of ambers and ashes. Burnt. Deceased.

Gone.

Nico _must_ have been there.

Jason found him beside the pier; or rather, a little into the shallow side of it. He was sitting there, hunched, _always hunched_, as if trying to physically make himself smaller, atop the highest of rocks that jutted out of the water, staring at the hazy image of the moon that hung above him ominously. It was past curfew, but the harpies seemed to veer clear off of the son of Hades's form; something about how he smelled like death, perhaps.

Jason couldn't even bring himself to laugh at the blatancy.

Shadows swirled around Nico's lifeless frame, and every few seconds, he absently brushed them off. He must have shadow-travelled just moments ago. At least, he didn't want to disappear yet and Jason, for some reason, felt elated at the thought. He wondered if this time it'd be better to bind and cuff the boy before he could take off.

Did it sound morbid? Did it sound desperate?

Jason couldn't care to ponder.

The mast of the Argo II stuck out behind Di Angelo, and Jason wondered if that was a place Nico had shadow-travelled from; of course, Bunker 9 was on the other side of the lake, a permanent port for the ship Leo had been repairing for the past few months. Since their return, the son of Hephaestus had almost developed an aversion towards the rest of the World. He kept tinkering with a piece of crystal he'd acquired from somewhere, Morse coding Festus' bronze head every two seconds, and muttering things about Oh-jee-jee-ah.

Though most of them cringed to see the humongous shape now, Nico was obviously not much moved by it. He sat there, deathly still, like a night creature that would disappear with the slightest twitch of its surroundings. He was almost an apparition to the eye.

Just watching him made Jason's stomach clench and stir in a painful way.

His sneakers must have made a splashing sound, or perhaps it was just his life force that the other could sense, but Jason could feel something tracing his every movement as he reached the boy's side. Nico's frail shoulders tensed, but gratefully, he didn't bolt. He didn't even look back.

"There was no Camp sing-along today," he said simply.

Hearing his voice had been really strange. It sounded out of sorts, hollow and broken; it might just have been puberty. Jason's heart judo flipped for a moment.

"Are you disappointed?" He asked, his own voice a little off.

"Not really. I never liked them myself anyways," Nico answered, moving his legs around and that made the water ripple. Random naiads flowed around in its darkness. Because his usual aviator's jacket was missing and he wore another one of his classic black T-shirts, Nico appeared almost skeletal. His back was too small for a healthy teenager, his skin too pale for a living person. Did he still think he could survive on half a pomegranate?

Jason stared at the scruffy curls atop his head intently. "I'm learning that you don't like a lot of things every other day."

That seemed to have amused the son of Hades, for he let out a dry chuckle. His curls bounced with the movement. His bony form shivered with its momentum, or may be Jason was just observing him much too closely. He didn't think he was to be blamed; he had never before seen Nico show any kind of positive emotion except for perhaps a time or two, if such a morbid sound could even be counted as one. It sounded forced, too false. Worse; he couldn't see what kind of face Nico made to go along with it.

There was a silence with only their breathing ruffling it.

Nico placed his stygian iron nightmare beside him and started undoing the bandages on his left hand. Jason had to stop himself from asking about the injury. "Are you going to be following me around again, Jason Grace?" He asked, his voice flat and unyielding.

Jason didn't answer for a long time. He simply couldn't; Nico's voice hadn't betrayed anything going on in his head, hadn't hinted at anything Jason could cling to. He wasn't Percy. He couldn't just say anything and then act oblivious to its implications. He wanted to know what Nico what he was feeling that suddenly made him return, what he wished to hear.

He wanted to know what Nico _needed_ to hear.

The mast of the Argo II silhouetted against Nico's frame. That was where he'd always been, always sitting alone and watching the skies. It was kind of ironic, Jason had mused secretly, that a child of the Underworld was looking to the vast expanse of that blue space above. What had gone through that mind of his all that time?

Jason smiled faintly, though he was sure the other couldn't see it. "If you mean my 'surveillance', then yup, I'm planning on it," he answered finally. His eyes never left the small body in front of him, though. "Why? You don't want me to?"

He could feel the boy sag further. "Truthfully, I am relieved that you can still say that."

"I'll say it as many times as it takes to make you stay."

That seemed to have struck a chord. Nico instantly sat up straight, stiffening his shoulders and causing the water to ripple violently around his legs. "This again? Children of Jupiter sure are conceited," he commented, leaning back a bit.

"I'll do it," Jason replied earnestly. "To keep you here, I will."

A half-amused snort. Nico probably didn't care about the earnestness.

"Conceit," he repeated.

"... Did you... were you visiting the Underworld?"

It was quiet for a moment; a contemplative silence that Jason's reflexes itched to shatter. He hadn't meant to complicate things anymore, but he did. Even a little prying scared the boy away. It irked him, truly, but the hush was even more demeaning. Did it always need to be so silent between them? It was one of those times when the son of Hades managed to bewilder him the most, when he managed to unnerve him just by _existing_. Huh, he was sounding like Jackson.

Percy Jackson, the son of Poseidon.

The only about reason why Nico had cared to visit at all.

Probably.

"He chose Elysium," Nico murmured after a long while, and at first Jason had to strain his ears to catch it. To hear him talking about the guy was a development; a good or bad one, Jason had yet to discover, but it made his brows knit together in obvious discomfort. Still, he listened to the listless voice that spoke to him. "He said he was grateful that I moved him up in line to be judged but... he wasn't going to be reborn." Nico inhaled sharply, then let it out again. "He said he couldn't leave Annabeth all on her own."

Just like Percy, to think about _her_ even though he himself was dead. How senseless could a person act? Jason couldn't decide whether he would have admired the guy for that or hit him with the hilt of his _Gladius_. He realized it wouldn't matter either way.

Percy Jackson was already gone.

"And you didn't tell him anything at all?" Jason hadn't meant to ask it aloud, but the words were already out before he could comprehend them.

Nico snorted again. "Would it have mattered?" He asked, half-amused, and really, Jason had no answer to that. He'd expected some sort of frustration, some sort of anger, that the son of Hades would seem put off and tell him he'd moved on from the guy ages ago already. But Nico merely sighed; such a depressing sound it made. "And anyway, the guy talks like there is no tomorrow. I don't know how you put up with it. He demanded that blueberry muffins be burned for him at dinner. Can you believe that?"

A dry laugh echoed around the lake, and even the naiads seemed to flinch away at it. Jason, glued to his spot, wondered if he should join in.

"Sounds like Jackson, yes."

Nico gave him a side long glance, but it was too dark to make out anything on his face. It scared Jason a bit. "He wanted me to tell the same to Annabeth," the son of Hades murmured. "But I suppose I was too late in delivering that message, huh?"

"We never thought it'd come to this," Jason told him quietly. "She did, though."

"Daughter of Wisdom," Nico said it like it was obvious, which, in truth, it was. He didn't seem to hold that bitter emotion for her anymore. His hands shook a little as he rewound the bandages around his arm; the wound, thankfully, was only a semi-healed gash. "I suppose I'll just have to spend some more money on Mc Donald's, then. At least there won't be any need to buy blue Pepsi this time." He laughed to himself again, and to Jason it was a broken sound. "They stopped selling those aeons ago."

"Is that all you came here for?" Jason inquired. He wasn't sure he could take anymore of Nico's voice; it hurt to just listen to him speaking so casually. "To pass on his messages?"

"Mostly," Nico answered, shrugging and stood up. Jason had the sudden urge to grab him and electrocute him until he fell unconscious. "It's difficult for a soul to pass into the other world if it has some unfinished business left in this one." The stygian iron sword was fluidly strapped onto his back again. "I don't have a choice."

_Of course you don't_, Jason wanted to say, but held back. He wasn't insensitive like Percy.

"Then, I guess I got a message too, right?" He asked instead.

Finally, Nico turned, presenting him with a perfect mask of stoicism. His features were the same, but they seemed older now, more weighed down and resigned. Jason's body felt like it had been short-circuited. For all he knew, tiny sparks of lightning might be dancing in his hair, but he couldn't dwell upon those useless facts now. Nico wasn't a patient one. The shadows around the boy were enough to tell Jason he'd be disappearing any second now.

"He asked you to keep the promise," Nico mouthed words, as quiet as a winter night, "For both his and that person's sake."

His curls ruffled in the wind. Jason felt his stomach knot.

And then, Nico was gone; disappeared, vanished. Just like that, melting into the shadows in front of his eyes, like some sort of ghost, leaving Jason staring at the now empty spot silently.

Again.

It was one of those times in his life when Jason couldn't help feeling hollow.

To be truthful, Jason had given hope then. He still had a lot to ask, a lot he needed to know, but knew for a fact that the son of Hades was never to return. That night had been a proof of that. It was a farewell that Nico, for some twisted reason of his, wanted with him. Percy was gone; Annabeth too. There really was little reason for the boy to return now. Not even Hazel was here to tie him down to Camp Half Blood.

Under these circumstances, he knew he'd failed. He'd failed heroically. No matter how much Percy wanted, Jason couldn't keep his promise. He couldn't.

The late night breeze was silent. The splashing of water as he walked into the lake further was hypnotic. That night, Jason ignored the curfew altogether and sat on the same spot that Nico had, staring at the sky above as if it held the answers to all qualms.

It didn't.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, things remained unexciting for the most part, and Jason was grateful. He wasn't sure he could take anything beyond blandness anymore. His sword-fighting class as Percy's replacement went on undeterred. Piper continued being all over the Camp, helping whatever case she could. Hazel remained cooped up in her temporary accommodation in New Rome. Rachel Elizabeth Dare still glowed green, and Campers still took up pointless quests. Leo continued to work on his crystal day in and day out.

Peaceful. Monotonous.

If anybody seemed peeved by the situation, it was Chiron.

"With the lack of experienced Senior Campers, the others don't know what to do," He answered grimly when Jason mustered up enough sense to ask. "Even quests are simply becoming a chore they must do rather than challenges. There is no motivation, no real desire. No offence to you, Jason Grace, though Percy may have asked this of you and I respect your decision to be here, I think the Campers would be more at ease if a Greek demigod were to take the lead instead."

"No. I think you are right," Jason had replied, nodding.

The matter wasn't one to be easily resolved, though, and it became apparent when nobody stepped up to the prospect of leadership, to the prospect of following Percy Jackson's legacy. Percy was a hero, and no simple-undeserving-Demigod measured up to him. Piper declined straight away, Leo never even bothered responding to his request. The Stoll brothers laughed in his face. Nobody, absolutely none were amused at the suggestion. It was atrocious. It was a blasphemy. Not that he had actually gone around asking each Demigod personally, but it seemed that way.

For three days, Jason couldn't find a single soul who would accept the position.

It was the same situation with Camp Jupiter, too. He'd it learned over a quick Iris-message to Reyna. How the Praetor was handling things on her own was yet another mystery to him. Jason had wondered for a brief moment if he'd do more good on that side than here with his Greek counterparts. Rather funny, though; he had been so sure that Octavian would gleefully jump the opportunity, but apparently, the teddy bear-gutting Roman had mellowed out.

Could that be counted as a contradiction? An irony? He wasn't sure.

The Camp sing-along that evening was the usual dreary affair. Even Piper sat on the other side of the fire, surrounded by her nervously giggling cabin mates. The Campfire was a cheerless blue. Like always, the darkness around the edges seemed to overshadow every figure and swallow them whole. Jason felt no better than a log of charred wood. He would've been falling over himself if it wasn't for the son of Hephaestus fidgeting by his side.

"I'm sailing tomorrow."

His words had Jason's attention instantly.

"... Okay."

"You don't have to look like that, man," Leo murmured under the voices of the sombre Campers. His curly, unruly hair fell around his head and reflected the red of the Camp Fire. "You're kind of bringing me down, you know." He was trying to sound irritated, but wasn't doing a swell job of it. "Besides, it's not like I am taking the Argo II. I transferred Festus' systems to a vessel of decent size, and I double-checked all of his circuitry to make up for the lack of time. Then there's the sphere too. I think I'll manage to remain in one piece long enough."

"You could have made it a flying car this time."

"There are things that make me nauseas, okay?" Leo waved a hand dismissively. "Like _cars_ and talking to girls."

"A flying horse, then."

He regretted it the moment the words had left his mouth. It didn't just sound childish and absurd, but it also reminded him of things he didn't want to dwell upon anymore. A flying horse sounded like something his and Percy's mind would have concocted.

He really should start paying more attention to what gibberish he spouts.

"Dude, now you're just insulting me," Leo muttered. He was looking somewhere between indignant and amused. That was a strange expression to have.

"I know, Leo. I know. I'm sorry." Jason swept a hand through his blonde hair. Huh, funny that he never bothered to cut or set them nowadays. They almost fell into his eyes. Perhaps he could ask Piper to trim it or something if the mood struck later. "But I still can't help thinking this is a suicide attempt."

"I'll die someday even if I don't do this, Grace."

Jason sighed. A determined Leo, he'd learned recently, was unbelievably rebellious. He didn't see sense. "Do you think the Gods will allow her to leave?" He asked instead.

"I don't know." Leo shrugged. "The magic around the island is broken, clearly, because then I couldn't have landed there only a few years after Percy, but I guess I won't find out until I get there. Optimism never killed a man, though, right?" He grinned in response, falling back on his elbows. Chiron wouldn't take kindly to either of them if the boy decided to sleep right there, like Leo often did these days. "At least, not a man with regrets."

"You're serious about this, aren't you?"

"As serious as Leo Valdez can get, your Highness."

Jason caught himself before he could sigh. A sarcastically philosophical Leo was almost worse than the moody, passionate about fixing a ship kind of Leo. Jason wasn't even sure if such a Leo could survive all on his own. He would have offered his companionship without another thought, but Piper had ensured him this was something their friend needed to do alone. Besides, regardless of whether he failed or succeeded, there was no way of knowing if Leo would be coming back at all.

Love did strange things to people, he'd heard.

And sometimes, it made you very, very sad.

Jason shut his eyes, trying his best to look annoyed. Acting had been a strong suit of his with all those 'Son of Jupiter' comedies he needed to put up. "Then the thing about remaining in one piece better be true, you understand?" He snapped.

"I'm not going to guarantee anything, Grace," Leo answered carelessly.

_Well, why not_, Jason thought of saying, but stopped himself. It was better to not be riddled with promises that couldn't be kept; he knew it well than anyone. Fair enough. "You told Piper? Chiron?" He asked instead.

"Everything's done and over with already."

Jason locked eyes with his best friend. "Then this is goodbye for good, huh?"

Leo shook his head, grinning. Jason could have sworn his eyes watered a little. "Could be. I'm not guaranteeing anything, remember?" He laughed. "Who knows? You might wake up one day to find me in your bed, sleeping soundly and snoring the heebie-jeebies out of you. Not that I actually want to share a bed with you, yanno?"

Jason attempted to punch him in the arm. "I'd kick you out first thing."

"Come on, everyone knows you are in love with me!" Leo exclaimed. "It's the Leo-charm! You can't turn away from the Leo-charm! I'm just that gorgeous."

Fortunately, the only head that turned their way was Nyssa's. Jason's cheeks heated up, but he shrugged and the daughter of Hephaestus merely shook her head in return, grinning. She went back to the conversation her cabin mate had spurned. Jason felt strange. It was good to know that somebody other than Piper and him cared enough to not mind Leo's sick sense of humour, but it was worrisome too.

Some people you couldn't just leave alone.

"Dream on, Valdez," he shot back and thought of head-tackling the boy, but Leo was already too busy standing up and dusting himself off. "What time are you leaving?"

"Early."

Jason thought of getting up too, but didn't. "How early?"

"Just... early," Leo repeated, looking to the flames again. They were becoming a shade of purple, dancing in a subdued manner, and Jason could feel the anxiety and depression the Campers felt through the motion. Leo's sigh only made it worse. "Don't come, Grace. Might change my mind about the whole thing if someone sees me off, yanno? Can't let that happen." He grinned. "Nyssa's going to be the Head Counsellor for the Cabin."

"Got it," Jason replied ambiguously.

Leo nodded, like he appreciated his understanding. _Don't grin_ _when you are smoking and getting teary-eyed, dude_, Jason wanted to say, but the son of Hephaestus was already on his way towards what he supposed was Bunker 9. Only Leo Valdez would dare to visit such a place in the dark. Sane people generally kept away from that side of the woods.

"Thanks," Leo murmured. "I gotta make some last minute checkups and then get some shut eye, or I'd be the sequel to 'Life of Pie'. Take care of Beauty Queen for me."

Another one.

"Sure."

Leo waved, already facing the other way. "See ya, Superman."

And that was that.

Another person out of the picture, and Jason could have done something to stop it this time as well, but he hadn't. He hadn't. He'd failed yet again.

Leo had made a choice. He hadn't wavered to keep his promise. Even if it cost his life, he would still fulfil it. It was pathetic. It was enviable. It was everything Jason Grace wasn't and hoped to be. He had watched the boy disappear into the woods that night, and resisted the urge to pull at his hair because, damn it, there were still Campers around who trusted him and looked up to him and depended on him enough to keep them afloat. Any sign of instability, of _insanity_, from Jason Grace, the Son of Jupiter was uncalled for.

Chiron would be mad.

Percy would be disappointed.

Then there was also Nico's pitying expression, which he couldn't even explain why mattered at this point. It shouldn't matter, but it did. It just did.

And yet, when he was sure Leo was not in sight anymore, Jason picked himself up lethargically and ignored the odd, startled looks the others shot him. He ignored Piper's questioning gaze, ignored Nyssa's sympathetic glance. He even ignored Mr. D who never seemed to get his name correct for some childish reason.

"Night walk," he muttered aloud, to no one in particular, and it made everything calmer again.

For the rest of the hours of darkness, Jason Grace resigned himself to sitting atop the mast of the Argo II and stared at the sky unblinkingly.

It still didn't answer anything.

* * *

The early minutes of dawn brought Leo and his new ship out on the shores.

It was a fairly small affair, about one-sixth the size of his previous creation. Festus's bronze head gleamed in the barely there sunlight, and though he couldn't make out the words, Leo was definitely talking to the dragon. That wasn't the only thing that caught Jason's eye. The crystal which Leo always fussed over shone brilliantly when he opened the doors in the hull.

That was the one thing that would cure his heartsickness, Piper had said. Jason would be lying if he said he understood any of it.

The vessel was lowered into the water. Leo probably had a console somewhere to control that thing. He probably had a Nintendo DS installed somewhere in there, too, Jason mused. He was like a kid on a high dose of caffeine, bouncing on the balls of his feet, staring at his creation wide-eyed. It was nostalgic. He'd be taking the lake until it gave way to clear sky and he could take off, just like what they had done with the Argo II all those months ago.

He would have still preferred if it were a car or a flying horse.

Not a Pegasus.

Jason rolled away from the edge and lay back, resting his head on his crossed arms. He heard the low rumble of the tiller. He heard Leo yelp when he fell head-first into the lake due to his enthusiastic - or nervous, Jason couldn't tell anymore - twitches. Why did he agree to leave the guy alone? Eventually, the splashing of the water subsided, and the silence of night, sprinkled with a few chirps of Romulus knew what birds of the morning, soothed him enough to climb down the mast. He spiralled forwards and left the Argo II behind.

He didn't go to the shore.

The sun was peeking through the horizon when Jason finally allowed himself the luxury of retiring. Or at least, that was what he'd hoped to do.

One second into his supposed cabin and he was jolted to earth.

"You sure take your sweet time with a night walk."

The familiar voice made him flinch and he found himself glued to the door of the Zeus Cabin that he'd pushed open oh so silently. Dark eyes watched him with little amusement. Jason had blinked twice, even pinched himself in the side subtly, yet the black figure in front of him didn't disappear like some cruel phantasm.

It remained staring at him.

"Nico?" He inquired tentatively.

"No, John F. Kennedy," the son of Hades replied, arms crossed over his chest, seeming unimpressed from his leaning posture against the far wall. His eyes were the same lifeless ones, his skin the same deathly pale. The halo of black, curly hair atop his head was agonizing. Even the sunlight that poured out from behind Jason didn't reach his form. "How many people you know carry a stygian iron sword around, anyway?"

For reasons unknown, Jason had swallowed. "Right."

Nico looked highly amused at his reaction. "Chiron Iris-messaged," the boy said as an explanation. His Aviator's jacket was back, and that made Jason feel strangely secure. The bandage on his arm was still intact, too. It was the same scrawny kid Jason had seen at the yard arm for days; it was known, usual.

"Right."

Shouldn't an ex-Praetor be more eloquent?

"Things seem bad here." Nico raised a tell-tale eyebrow at his lack of verbal skills, and in general. "What, one Demigod goes off and dies and everybody is running around like headless chickens. I'm not sure whether to be amused or offended." He shrugged, vague, and pushed himself away from the wall. "I'm done with most of the errands, so I might as well start working on something else. Underworld is quite boring at the moment." Dark brown eyes, like a pit in the wet soil of the Amazon, looked to Jason. "Chiron wants you to make this work."

Jason stepped inside. "Right," he repeated.

Nico, bemused, moved towards the door and took its knob from him. "Be warned, though, son of Jupiter. I'm not planning on being consistent," he murmured, not even bothering to look at him as he pushed the door out of his way and, then, was off.

Jason stared at the spot that he'd leant against for a while.

It was a cranky grey.

That was the first time he'd ever felt thankful to the Centaur, and the first time his heart had jumped up so violently that it was in his mouth now, which was saying a lot since Jason Grace had fought far too many dangerous things to be feeling that way. Still, he savoured it. That feeling that twisted his guts, made him feel like going on his knees and begging for something he didn't even understand himself; he savoured it.

_Not consistent, huh? _Jason couldn't help the slight smile on his face_. Then I guess it's okay to stalk you again_, he thought and collapsed on his bunk.

Slumber struck without a warning.

* * *

The following week, Jason realized why Nico had been so adamant that he could never belong. Home was where there was someone waiting for you, right? However, he wasn't sure if it applied for the boy anymore. Just one day down that path, the Camp underwent blaring changes on having the son of Hades amidst it.

It was far from relieving.

The thing about making Nico Di Angelo an actual member of Camp Half Blood was that he couldn't really become a member at all. Nobody bothered to go near the guy, much less talk to him. Chiron acted favourably enough, Mr. D simply breezed past him. An aura of restlessness stirred at his barest of words, and his words were barest to begin with. The tension in the air sky-rocketed when he was in vicinity, gasps and murmurs echoed behind his back. Campers scattered to clear his way wherever he went.

Jason supposed he shouldn't have blamed them; after all, Nico had scared the life out of him before Croatia too. Actually, he still scared him a little. But this was different. Here he was being blindly avoided; shunned, even. For a brief moment, Jason wondered if something significant had happened during the placing of the Athena Parthenos that he hadn't been informed about. Had Nico called forth another undead army or something? That would have been freaky; shocking enough to make him an outcast. But would it have warranted to people avoiding him like the plague? None approached him out of their own volition. The only about people who could have a decent conversation with the son of Hades was the remaining crew of the Argo II, Chiron, Grover Underwood, and Rachel, the Oracle of Delphi.

Even Percy's half-brother, Tyson, who was a walking, talking hug-machine who cried a river each new day, seemed not much fond of the guy. "Boy smells weird," was the reason the Cyclops would put forward every time.

He had to make it work somehow.

Jason, for his part, stuck with the son of Hades like a piece of iron to magnet, shadowing him everywhere, every second. He supposed he wasn't anything better than a stalker then. Nico generally ignored his presence, carrying on with whatever he'd been doing, not even bothering to quell others questioning gazes as to why the Roman was following him around. Even so, he'd lose the boy at times, and it'd be a few days before Nico would bother showing up again. "Work," he'd mutter and shrug, as if the word was enough of an explanation.

Talk about being irresponsible.

Jason honestly didn't understand the behaviour. Neither the Campers' aversion to Nico, nor Nico's reaction to it made any sense to him. Obviously, the stories leading to the War with Gaia had floated around the camp, but those achievements of the son of Hades, for some reason, didn't seem to matter to anyone, not even to Nico himself.

No. More like, they were being over-shadowed by another incident.

"Back during the Battle of Manhattan," Connor Stoll huffed nervously, conniving, when Jason had muttered about where the son of Hades went wrong, sweating profusely after having tripped several times throughout practice, "Rumour has it that Nico Di Angelo tricked Percy into going to the Underworld and sold him out to Hades."

Jason's face must have been a hardened mask of indignation, but it held nothing against the reaction the other occupant of the Arena had.

An irritated snort from their left had caught the brothers' unawares. The head counsellor of the Mars- no, _Ares_ cabin, Jason reminded himself, had been the cause of that. She had been slashing at the dummies with such brute force that Jason wondered how they could have overlooked her presence. It didn't help that Clarisse La Rue appeared to be contemplating which of them to clobber first. Her dark eyes were glaring.

And an angry Ares kid, Jason had learned, could achieve impossible feats like obliterating hundreds of _katobleps_ or bringing down a Drakken bare-handed.

It sort of amused him.

Jason expected her to lunge at Connor, but she actually sagged back and produced another snort. He didn't know girls could snort like that. "Di Angelo brought Hades over to our side. In the end, he did the right thing. That's all that matters," She muttered, and it didn't sound like she was saying it to approve of Nico. She swung her sword again. It sliced through the dummy cleanly and Jason caught himself from shuddering as the severed head rolled somewhere between his feet. She scowled. "Jackson was an idiot anyway."

"Right, right." The son of Hermes backed away, almost scrambling.

She moved on to the next target, taking up a wild stance. "And for the record, I think Di Angelo is less of a blockhead than that other guy," she said and lunged.

Jason watched her hack another two dozen dummies.

He'd have to make this work.

So Nico generally avoided people. He said he was more comfortable alone anyway. It was rare that he would come out, especially during the daytime when there were a dozen prying eyes about. If he wasn't in the Hades Cabin, or on its roof, or basically just curled up in his bunk all day long, he'd be sitting on top of the mast of Argo II, which seemed like a vulgar joke on his part if Jason was being honest, staring at the hazy image of the moon above. Jason would be right next to him, stalking him dutifully. He could stare at the boy for hours together. Nico didn't seem to mind it, unless Jason was beginning to get talkative. Nico didn't like being talkative.

Sometimes, his murky eyes wandered off towards the now empty Cabin 3, and Jason couldn't help the coarseness of his own nails digging into his palms. Nico just appeared so vacant. The boy would never approach the building though. And no matter how much Jason wanted to reach out and lay a comforting arm on him, he couldn't.

He just couldn't.

Except for that one night so long ago, Jason never saw him near water again.

Once Rachel even brought him a muffler, to add some colour to his attire was her flawless reasoning and Jason respected her even if she was just trying to be nice because nobody else was, but the guy freaked out like the very fabric scorched him. Jason didn't understand how that was possible; the muffler was a cool, calm blue. It couldn't burn. Nico disappeared for two whole days after that, and he realized that perhaps it burned _because_ it was that cool, calm blue.

That was a part he'd accepted by now. He wasn't going to be consistent, after all; Nico had made that much clear himself. He had to make this work, Chiron had said.

Now if only he _could_ make it work.

The son of Hades vanished continuously, as if it was the only way for him to remain sane, escaping from confinements of the Camp and holing himself up in known territory. Three years of not belonging anywhere had driven him to that, Jason supposed. He ran away a lot. Cupid had been correct with that observation, too. Whether it was the Underworld or Camp Jupiter was a fact Jason had stopped caring about a long time ago.

Just as long as Nico returned, anywhere was fine.

He was keeping his promise.

He could make this work.

"I don't get it. It's already been over two months and they are still acting like that," Jason voiced out his concerns one evening, frowning by the hull of the Argo II. Any other time he would have kept it to himself, but now he was getting desperate. "Why don't you even seem to care about it, anyway? What's wrong with you, dude?"

"What's wrong with me?" Nico snorted from the yardarm. "I'm the son of Hades, Jason. I don't need to have anything wrong with me just to be rejected."

"With that attitude, we aren't going to get anywhere."

"You still don't get it, do you?" Nico spat back, and there was thumping up there that made Jason fear the son of Hades was going to jump for some reason. Thankfully, it held no substance. "We will _never_ get anywhere. It doesn't matter if I am here; it doesn't matter even if _you _are here, because there is _no_ moving on from Percy Jackson."

Jason wanted to argue, but no words came to his aid. He didn't even know whether Nico was talking about the Campers or himself anymore.

He didn't want to find out, either.

"I don't know what's wrong," he told Piper after dinner.

They were filing into the amphitheatre, and Nico, as always, had chosen to loiter around the woods than be faced with a round of Campfire songs. The Apollo kids would be livid to hear that.

"They are not isolating him, Jason," she said kindly, putting a hand on his sagging shoulder, and for some reason, the electricity he'd felt through his veins on prior occasions when they'd touched didn't resurface this time. It was just a dull ache that made him turn away from that beautiful girl. "They are _intimidated_ by him."

"That is what doesn't make any sense. He's not like before," he argued.

Piper smiled, her kaleidoscopic eyes saying a thousand things at once, and she squeezed his shoulder a little. "I know, but then none of us are either, right?"

Jason could only stare.

They sat together then, huddled closer, heads bumping, hushing about pointless things between themselves after a long, long time. Jason didn't understand how Piper would get the feeling of losing someone; Leo was alive, probably, and Jason was here. Sometimes, he thought it was unfair that their mismatched trio had suffered so little when Hazel had practically been shattered. He thought it was unfair that Piper, who'd endured the least, would dare to look at them like she understood all their pains. He wanted to pull away, but he didn't.

He couldn't.

She smiled at him empathetically, then, and Jason lost the nerve to accuse anyone, _anything_. The voices of the Apollo kids kept them well hidden from the cajoling stares and cheers.

* * *

Chiron's tactics were not necessarily working out. Every day was an amusing one. It was also morbidly fascinating. If the Centaur's aim was to make Campers more miserable and bluntly insecure than they already were, Jason would say he was doing a swell job of it.

Nico Di Angelo certainly was an item.

Jason was tempted to think that the guy _enjoyed _making people nervous. He stared a lot, he zoned-out. And the way he moved without a sound was plainly disturbing. And if his aversion towards crowds wasn't enough, he refused to be out in the sun and tried to only appear in the night. Camp activities brought him in direct contact with the other demigods, too, and generally, he declined, but sometimes he didn't. Sometimes he'd shrug and mutter a 'whatever'. Sometimes he'd crack an amused expression that had most of the Campers backing away. Generally, Jason would have to assure them that the boy didn't mean any harm, that it was all just smoke and no fire. And since it was Jason, they would try their best to understand. They would try to act reasonable. Those instances, then, would result in an awkward bout of silence when Nico climbed into the Arena with his Stygian iron nightmare, or the hesitation and lengthy discussions of allied cabins on who would be sacrificed to get past Di Angelo in Capture-the-Flag.

He even preferred to sit alone during mealtimes. Jason found it funny; he didn't eat much to begin with, anyway. Perhaps a pomegranate or a sip of some juice. A bite of bread. Once Rachel even cracked an unintentionally cruel gag on how there wasn't any McDonald's nearby, but it went right over everyone's head, including the son of Jupiter's. When asked, Nico simply shrugged and muttered something about the dead preferring burgers and fries over animal blood. It disturbed him, of course. Yet for some reason, morbidly, it thrilled Jason to know that he wasn't the only single occupant of a table, or a cabin.

Yup. Nico certainly enjoyed making people nervous.

"Could you perhaps work on your staring habit while I'm eating," the son of Hades had mumbled one such evening, enervated. "You're doing it far too intently than before."

That was new. It wasn't common for Nico to initiate a conversation.

Jason averted his gaze to look at the horizon instead, sheepish. His face felt hot for some reason. The crow's nest of the trireme was too damn small to accommodate the two of them, but Nico wasn't the least bit deterred by it. The nights weren't as warm as before, but that didn't matter. He simply stared at the water, slurping at a canteen in a motion that finally made him look his age. Of course that didn't mean any bodily contacts were allowed, either.

Nico still didn't like being touched. Not that Jason wanted to touch him or anything; he was simply making an observation.

"Sorry," he replied. "I was just thinking why you don't eat enough."

For a moment, he'd thought the boy wouldn't answer. His gaze was vacant. Jason wondered when his mind would put a filter on his mouth. "It's difficult to digest solid food," Nico alleged after a while. "Those pomegranate seeds I took while I was stuck in that jar... they have some side-effects. It'll take some time to wear off."

It was a little heartening to know that Nico cared enough to not wave him off like before. Jason nodded and pointed at the canteen. "What's in there?"

The son of Hades had given him a blank stare before opening his mouth. It was painful. The redness of his teeth had Jason choking on his own saliva. The crimson liquid that dribbled down the side of his chin, so enticing on the porcelain flesh, was ghastly in the slight sliver of the moon.

"Cool aid," he clarified.

It was all Jason could do to keep himself from cursing the boy's sick sense of humour, if it was at all that to begin with. Somehow, Nico didn't strike him as the kidding type.

It was alright, though. If Nico enjoyed it, he could enjoy it.

He could learn to enjoy it.

* * *

Although things didn't change much over the course of the next few months, he was glad that the son of Hades kept his word.

It might have had something to do with the decrease in population of the Campers as summer came to an end. Teenagers dressed in casual clothes waited for the vehicle that'd take them away from this chaotic world, chatting, waving, _weeping_. Some would stay behind, though what they hoped to achieve by doing so was lost to Jason. Chiron galloped about tending to odd chores. Mr. D, funny that he was even there, walked around disdainfully. The Athena Parthenos stood proud and tall on the side of the hill, casting a long, long shadow. It was an amusing scene. Nico though, fiddling with his skull ring, just stared at it from the top of his cabin.

"You aren't leaving?" He questioned listlessly, snatching the other's attention at once.

Jason looked to him and cracked a thousand watt smile; he'd learned to do it from the Will Solace himself "Nah. Lots of work here, you know," he answered.

Nico didn't bat an eye though. Shame.

"Don't you want to start something normal now that you've got a chance to?" He muttered, gracing Jason with a glance from the corner of his brown, brown eyes. It was humourless, but so melancholic. "There's a lot more to this World than you'd think."

No, Jason wasn't just glad that Nico was keeping his word. He was _relieved_.

Jason tried to concentrate on the Campers before them, and not on the one who sat beside him, silent and still. He had to do something about his staring habit soon.

"I never thought about it."

He was being honest. He had been so invested with Camp Jupiter prior to Juno's messy arrangement that he thought less of what was outside. He had to be the perfect Praetor, lead the Twelfth Legion until someone better came along and then, if he survived long enough, he'd thought of perhaps having a family and settling in New Rome someday. At least, he thought that was what he'd planned for the future before losing his memories. There wasn't anything more. Anything beyond that small World hadn't come into the equation at all. And now that he was in Camp Half Blood, where battling monsters and becoming pawns of the Olympians was just a business over summer break until normalcy resumed, Jason was out of ideas.

He didn't know what to think about anymore.

Even Piper was attending some School that her dad and Mellie had looked up, although he hadn't paid much attention to the details of where and how. Was there something he could do in the normal World now that the prophecy was over? _Did_ he want to do it?

Jason wasn't sure.

Besides, there was still the boy next to him. He wasn't sure why, but leaving the son of Hades here was something he couldn't bear to dwell upon.

"You should have stayed in Camp Jupiter," Nico muttered.

And he just laughed it off.

* * *

Things stirred just when Jason was starting to believe that they were getting accustomed to the circumstances, and that perhaps this formidable situation might finally be conquered without any casualties. He didn't know why he hadn't expected it.

He shouldn't have been shocked.

After all, two sides of a coin could never be acquired at the same time.

Olympians knew that well enough.

The barrier between the Roman and the Greek Camp was to be reinforced. To avoid further hassle, he supposed, though it was an outlandish notion, too. Unless urgent and significantly important, even Jason wasn't allowed to contact the other side. He hadn't argued; it was already a big thing that he wasn't being kicked out for being Roman already. Special treatment for the Prophecy's seven, he inferred. Besides, he didn't think he could go back to those days and pretend the last one year hadn't happened. He couldn't leave Piper behind, he couldn't lose what little time he got with his sister if she cared to drop by, he couldn't ignore the responsibility Percy and Leo had made him shoulder.

He couldn't leave behind a broken oath.

And he didn't know why, but somewhere along the way, Nico Di Angelo had made it into his list of things he couldn't leave behind as well. The feeling had become stronger over the last few weeks. Jason was beginning to truly think like a stalker now.

It didn't make him feel any better.

Campers were given strict instructions, rules were modified. If you happened upon a couple of kids in purple t-shirts goofing off or fending off monsters during your quest, you left them well alone. You let them do their own thing. That was what Chiron had inculcated. That, or you could enjoy swaying in the wind as barley sprouts, Mr. D had added carelessly. Something told Jason the wine God enjoyed making people as nervous as Nico Di Angelo, or perhaps even more so.

Of course, the son of Hades wasn't one to abide by regulations.

"I have a sister there," he'd argued with the Centaur. Apparently, Nico didn't give a fly if he was turned into a fermented drink or not. "You can't expect me to leave her there in that condition, Chiron. You can't _make _me."

"The Gods decided it, Mr. Di Angelo."

"And you think I care about what _they_ decide after all this time?" Thunder rumbled at a distance as the words came out of Nico's mouth. If Jupiter was out there somewhere listening to this, Jason prayed feverishly that he wouldn't get all smite-y and settle on electrocuting the boy; he probably wouldn't be able to forgive his Father then. Nico, oblivious to his worries, pressed on. "Look, I lost my sister once but I'm not going to lose her again. I won't do that to her."

Jason reached out to touch his shoulder. "Nico, we understand but - "

"You don't understand!" He shrugged him off, and Jason wondered if skeletons would come crawling out of the ground any minute now. The grass around the boy was turning yellow. "Why do you think I agreed to stay here? She's broken and she's not healing! I won't leave her like that! She _needs_ me, Chiron, and I..."

Nico halted and breathed in deeply. Silence fell over them.

_And you need her too_, Jason thought.

Nico's fists were trembling, but he'd managed to keep his voice from cracking. The realization made Jason's chest stir in a painful way. His outstretched hand pulled back on its own accord. He didn't like tears, and he didn't enjoy others' misery, but this was different. He couldn't bring himself to feel bad. He'd only ever seen Nico get like this on one other subject, yet, somehow, this was infinitely better. He didn't abhor it.

For once, it wasn't about Percy Jackson.

The commotion was attracting a few stares by the nearby Campers. Mr. D simply yawned, as if the entire thing just made his diet coke release its gas. Chiron's eyes were sympathetic, but he couldn't do anything here, couldn't help the son of Hades who'd done his utmost to save the Camp, the one who'd brought a humongous statue half-way across the World to stop an intra-camp war. He couldn't. Jason knew that, and perhaps even Nico knew it.

"I'm sorry, but you are not to visit the Roman Camp unless an Ambassador of Pluto is needed for emergencies," Chiron said and left no room for discussion.

The evening after the incident was unexciting, to say the least.

That was, however, only until Jason finished his dinner. He'd had a sick feeling in his stomach, but tried to push it away for the sake of getting over with his food as soon as possible, if it meant even a moment longer of being in Nico's presence, of _stalking_ him, of course. Jason Grace continuously stalked Nico Di Angelo for his own inexplicable reasons; it was an established fact among the rest of the Campers by now.

He couldn't find him, though.

Nico wasn't in his cabin, neither on its roof. The yardarm of the Argo II was also unoccupied. Just to be sure, Jason visited the canoe lake's pier as well. He looked about the entire place, the woods, the cabins, the Big House, and even Rachel's cave, searching, dodging the late-night harpies. He never knew how much he could sweat by just running. He didn't know how fast his heart could beat due to panic and anxiety.

In the end, Jason couldn't find him.

He wished he had.

* * *

Author's Note:

Ah, Percy is dead. So is Annabeth. Kind of shocking to hear, if Sayloni is being honest here. Oh, and Frank is gone too, in case you couldn't guess. Yup, yup.

Oh Gods!

And Nico... well. You get the idea.

Really, that was kind of expected though. Jason is an airhead to not have anticipated it. Some ex-Praetor he is.

But really, Sayloni doesn't have anything against Jason. She'd actually prefer writing about him or/and using his point of views in her works if given a choice. It's something inexplicable. A few months ago she didn't even care about the guy much to dislike him. Sayloni just finds it too much of a chore to write out characters who are all brawn and no brains.

Yes, Percy might seem like a better Hero hypothetically, but now Sayloni has stopped caring about who was offered "Godhood" and who wasn't. That's just absurd.

Also, she finds the relationship between Jason and Nico (in the books, mind you) quite amusing in comparison to the one between Percy and Nico. It's personally endearing to the fangirl in Sayloni to know that Nico really does have comrades who'd help him even if they are not related.

So, thank you, Mr. Riordan. Just don't kill off the poor guy in "Blood of Olympus", because Sayloni has a sneaking suspicion you are going to pull off something along those lines.

Just don't.

Anyway, personally, Sayloni finds the situation after Croatia quite amusing. Jason is the kind of guy who goes all 'let's talk about it, bro', and Nico is always glaring at him to just shut up and die already, so it's even more alluring than the 'unrequited love' thing he has with Percy.

Or so Sayloni thinks anyway.

Personally, Sayloni often imagines this weird scenario where Jason keeps being kind to Nico and then sows what he reaps in the end when Nico starts crushing on him (which is highly unlikely if we are being technical here, but whatever), and then Sayloni will be going all "I told you so, man" and cracking up like a madman.

The scene with Clarisse was her personal favourite if anybody is interested to know. Stoll Brothers are just so much fun. The cool aid thing follows closely.

Anyway, enough of this pointless rambling. See you next chapter.

Also, do review.

(^_^)/


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